


Blessed

by SolitaryAttachment



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Brief mentions of other NCT members, Depression, Fluff, Highschool AU, M/M, Serious, Slice of Life, Smut, Taeyong has walking depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 12:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8209262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolitaryAttachment/pseuds/SolitaryAttachment
Summary: In which Taeyong has depression





	

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A VERY RUSHED FIC DESPITE BEING 4.8k words but I made it a oneshot bc I suck at updating on a timely basis.  
> So this fic is sort of a rant in the beginning... and you might think the random jumps in between time or the mood might be weird and choppy asf but I sort of felt like that's what it's like to have depression, personally. Some days are normal but some days are hell (anyways on a more positive note the lemon is at the very end; if you don't want to be sad and just want some TaeTen feels)
> 
> (They're both juniors in high school)

_In this cold world, I’m closing my eyes_

_Laying down in bed, covering my ears_

_Yesterday is today, today is yesterday_

_I’m only filled with late self-guilt_

 

He has always felt this inexplicable melancholy lurking within the depths of his mind, surfacing itself at his most desperate moments. Although he has no reason to be sad, really. He has a loving family, especially being the youngest, which earns him most of the affection. They say the youngest child supposedly has the least weight on their shoulders, which is true for Taeyong, for the most part. His older siblings, all of which have graduated from college, make quite a lot at a young age, but his parents, understanding and gentle, never urged him to “follow in their footsteps” or “strive to be like them” unlike most parents would.

There’s no real reason for him to be sad, really.

He tells himself _Maybe, I’m just bored…_ Feeling restless is bound to happen when you live in dreary suburbia, where everyone has money to fulfill all their materialistic “needs”, where everyone feels the pressure to do well in school in order to get into a good college, so that they land a well-paying job later on in life, and ultimately achieve “success”. It gets to the point where “letting loose” translates into smoking weed and getting drunk at parties, whether it be to release stress and have fun or to finally hook up with someone. Taeyong used to attend these typical suburban high school parties, but he got sick of it very, very soon.

 

_Each day repeats but it’s okay_

_I’m walking on top of a deep darkness_

_Look at what’s real that’s hidden over there_

 

It doesn’t help that Taeyong has no idea what to do with his life once he gets out of highschool. His parents tell him to do what makes him happy, but maybe that’s the problem: He doesn’t exactly know what’s out there, _if_ there’s something out there, that he could do for the rest of his life without regretting it the moment he earned his degree. His friends tell him not to stress because sometimes life will just sort itself out on its own, and you can’t plan out everything. More often than not, that’s when he feels that incomprehensible hopelessness overcoming him. Because that’s easy for Jaehyun, the star of the basketball team, who will definitely get an athletic scholarship, to say. It’s even easier for Doyoung, being ranked #1 of the class, lead singer of the choir, with hundreds of hours of charity work just waiting to be showcased on his resume. Even Taeil who slacks slightly when it comes to grades, slacks because he just wants to write music and star in musicals.

 

_Hatred that will not go away and dreams that torture me_

_The clock laughs at me, it does not give a single error_

_I’m a mess, I don’t even know myself, my future is colored darkly_

_I’m struggling, coloring this night even blacker_

 

The clock reads 4:30 am. Taeyong has been lying in bed for the past 5 hours, unable to fall asleep. He has always struggled with bouts of insomnia here and there. Throwing a pillow over his face, he wills himself to sleep, he has to, at least, get in some sleep before his alarm rings at 6:30.

Needless to say, he doesn’t fall asleep.

Groaning in frustration as the annoying, _fucking,_ beeping alarm goes off, reminding him once again that he has to get up and face another pointless day.

 

Taeyong hates how fucked up the school system is. Sure, Taeyong is in all honors if not taking AP courses, but he hates how he put himself through all this unnecessary stress. He hates how he let the school encourage him into doing so, easily indoctrinating his impressionable teenage mind, spoonfeeding him the idea that all students  _must_ prove themselves in high school to get into a great college.

But he’s clothed, he’s fed, he’s sheltered, and has a ton of supporting loved ones. He needs to stop being _such a millennial_ and _be grateful_.

And Taeyong tries, he really does, but he can’t bring himself to appreciate his comfortable 1st world lifestyle, no he can’t, not really, not when he’s been living like that his entire life. But at the same time, Taeyong isn’t always miserable. When he’s not sitting in class, frantically trying to absorb information and take notes, Taeyong doesn’t hate school as much.

Pretty girls leave notes in his locker, and Taeyong has fun reading through them. He smiles at how sweet some of the notes could be, other times he internally cringed at how forward and cheesy a lot of them were. He shows them to his friends during lunch only when he’s forced to; they definitely know how to work their aegyo game, unlike Taeyong. A lot of teasing occurs, usually, but Taeyong doesn’t mind. They all know Taeyong is sick of having girlfriends, because they all seemed to like him for just his looks.

Taeyong has fun when he talks to his friends, genuinely happy when Mark, the adorkable maknae, says things to please his extra hyungs like Johnny and Yuta. Hansol’s unpredictability is a feat of its own, and Doyoung’s cheesy sense of humor has everyone brutally roasting him 24/7, amusing Taeyong to no end. Taeyong laughs at his friends’ stupidity, despite partaking in it quite frequently, and it’s times like these where the underlying darkness of his mind is pushed down, down, down, and refuses to appear, as if it’s scared by the happiness, no matter how temporary.

 

_To an unknown place, to an unknown hall_

_I’m spending most of my time_

_At a place that’s uncomfortable even after several nights, like an explorer_

 

It’s the final period of the day, and _dear God,_ how much longer can this period get? It’s AP Literature, another class Taeyong wishes he didn’t take. There were so many opportunities to back out: he could’ve just left during the qualifier to make his exam invalid; even when he did get in, he could have told his guidance counselor that the class wasn’t really for him and that he wanted to back out, but Taeyong is just really, really good at pressuring himself into doing things he really doesn’t want to do. So now he has to endure a 40-minute lecture analyzing Shakespeare every single _fucking_ day.

15 minutes in, Taeyong is dying. His seat is right beside the windows, making him wonder if he could safely jump out of said window without sustaining any serious injuries. _We’re only on the second floor…_ Taeyong shakes the silly thought out of his head, only to have a much darker thought replace it, enraging the voice of reason in its wake.

 

Why can’t he just be normal and not think about _that_?

Unless, in reality, everyone thinks about it at one point in their lives, but no one is willing to admit it.

 

In the dark depths of his mind, among the murkiness, a voice manages to reconstruct itself, slithering out in its potent glory, tempting, advising Taeyong to just give up already. It whispers temptations, promises rest, convinces Taeyong it’s been this way for too long…

Miraculously, a beacon drags him out of his well-concealed distress. That beacon came in the form of some Asian kid, who walks in 20 minutes late, no less, wearing a bashful smile. The boy seems about 5’6; his proportionate slender frame encased in a deep purple sweater, complimenting his olive skin tone, dipping beneath prominent yet delicate collarbones underneath a proud, elegant neck.

A slow look of realization finds its way onto the teacher’s face, and she promptly introduces him. “Everyone! This new student! His name is…” Confusion distorts her usually rigid features as her eyes squint at the roster, and she continues in an equally confused tone, “Honey, how do you pronounce your name?”

The boy chuckles, and Taeyong is surprised at how much he found himself liking the sound, the boy’s smile. _His smile…_

“Uhm, I think it would be easier if you just call me Ten,” the boy suggests shyly. No snickers, but a few judgemental glances are passed around the room. Taeyong hears someone mumble, _Who the hell chooses a number as a nickname?_

Visibly relaxing, the teacher proudly announces, “Well, like I was saying, this is Ten! He’s from Thailand, it’s everyone’s job to make sure he feels welcome!” She gestures to an empty seat on the other side of the room, to Taeyong’s disappointment,  “Ten, you can go sit over there.”

Ten pouts a little, points to the seat beside Taeyong and asks “Can I sit over there instead? I like being near windows.”

The teacher laughs at Ten’s innocent inquiry and nods, “Sure, honey, whatever makes you happy.”

Ten whispers a quiet _hey_ when he makes eye contact with Taeyong and flashes a smile that nearly blinds him. His teeth are perfect rows of pearly whites, his eyes and the tip of his nose crinkling in a way that exudes bubbliness. Taeyong, somehow, manages to give him a thin smile and nod in response.

An assortment of colored pens litter Ten’s desk, and Taeyong notices Ten would switch between them quite frequently. By the end of the period, Taeyong can’t help but ask, “What the hell were you taking notes on?”

Ten scoffs, as if Taeyong had made the most ridiculous assumption, and holds up his notebook. Taeyong is taken aback, to say the least, to see a neatly and animated drawn landscape that is the view from the window. “That’s why you wanted to sit next to the window,” Taeyong states matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, the scenery is gorgeous, isn’t it?”

Taeyong nods in agreement, and Ten takes it as his cue to continue, “Well, that’s not the only gorgeous thing I wanted a view of.” Ten laughs out of nowhere, or maybe it’s because Taeyong is wearing the most flustered expression on his face, and _Oh God,_ he’s probably blushing too, isn’t he?

Before Taeyong could fire back a witty response, Ten asks “Hey, what’s your name?” Curiosity glitters in his feline-shaped eyes, and Taeyong has to force himself to formulate a response, “Uhm, it’s Taeyong.”

Ten chuckles again, “Hmmm, you don’t seem too sure.”

Taeyong notices Ten tends to laugh a lot.

“Are you taking the bus?”

Taeyong makes sure to respond quickly this time, “Yes.”

Ten raises a brow, “Well… Wanna walk to the bus stop with me?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

It’s Taeyong who chuckles this time, “No, I don’t. I guess you could say I live in my head too much.”

“Fantasizing?”

“W-What? No, I---”

 Ten cuts him off with a laugh and places a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, “You don’t have to answer that! I mean, I daydream a lot, and fantasies slip their way in there occasionally…”

Taeyong doesn’t know how to respond to that.

 

Ten grabs Taeyong by the hand, leading him out of the classroom, never letting go until they’re sitting on the bench, waiting for the bus. Taeyong misses its warmth. Ten mainly talks about himself at first, and Taeyong learns a lot and at the same time learns too little. Soon enough, Ten goes back to asking questions, patiently taking Taeyong’s one-word responses until Taeyong opens up little by little, elongating his sentences and adding details that Ten didn’t directly ask for. Before Taeyong knew it, his bus arrived, and since Ten lived in a different neighborhood, he would have to wait until the other bus came 5 minutes later.

Ten pouts visibly, “Nooo!! Don’t leaaavee mee!!!”

Taeyong laughs, getting up nonetheless. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ten pouts deeper, but his eyes widen as he fishes for something in his bag. “Wait real quick!” Now holding a pen, Ten grabs Taeyong’s wrist and quickly scrawls something across Taeyong’s forearm. “Tomorrow is a Saturday so text me! Or call me if you decide you miss the sound of my voice!”

Taeyong rolls his eyes and turned on his heels to walk onto the bus, “You wish!”

Ten’s laughter rings deafeningly in Taeyong’s ears.

 

_We’ll take it slow_

_Baby baby We’ll take it slow oh_

_In the same dream_

_I hear a familiar song that calls to me_

_It connects us_

 

Taeyong lays in bed thinking about his encounter with Ten, surprised at how quickly he opened up to someone he had just met. For some odd reason, Taeyong feels as if they’ve been friends their entire lives; he guesses it's because Ten has a way with words that relaxes him, making him feel content.

Maybe it’s the way Ten laughs a little too loud or the fact that he’s a lot more open to skinship, especially in a society rooted in Puritan values. Maybe it’s because Ten is willing to talk about anything, chattering mindlessly about how much he loved chocolate cake to seriously discussing the science of the spectrum of sexuality.

Ten is uninhibited, free, _reckless_ even.

Taeyong manages to fall asleep at 11:30 pm.

***

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Taeyong sees the clock reads 12:32 pm. He grabs for his phone and remembers the smudged digits scrawled across his forearm.

 

**TO: TEN**

_-It’s Taeyong_

 

**FROM: TEN**

_-You asshole_

_-WHY DIDN’T YOU TEXT ME LAST NIGHT_

_-OR WHEN YOU WERE ON THE BUS FOR THAT MATTER_

_-I was waiting :(((_

 

All of a sudden Ten name’s appeared on the screen, and Taeyong promptly answered. He hears Ten take a large inhale, but Taeyong cut off whatever he was about to say.

“I’m sorry, I meant to text you last night but I fell asleep, and technically you didn’t specify when I should’ve texted you.”

 

Silence.

 

“Ten?”

_“Were you thinking about me?”_

“H-huh?”

Taeyong heard laughter from the other end. It wasn’t funny, considering yes, he was thinking about Ten before he fell asleep.

 _“Wanna come over? I’m lonely.”_ Taeyong hears the pout in his voice; and he can’t bring himself to say no. “When?”

_“Yay! In 30 minutes, I’ll pick you up, ‘kay? So be ready by 1!”_

He hangs up right away, not giving Taeyong a chance to refuse.

Taeyong admires how Ten knows exactly what he wants...

***

Ten is full of surprises. He pulls up in a sleek Mercedes-Benz, wearing about a dozen piercings and tank top that shows off his slender yet built frame, despite the 60 degree fall weather.

“Stunning,” Taeyong says under his breath, staring out the window, trying to distract himself from the attractive Thai teenager sitting beside him.

“What’s so stunning about this boring neighborhood?”

Taeyong has only known Ten for a day, but his presence that always demanded be felt, his unguarded persona, and his easygoing demeanor is already beginning to rub off on him, and Taeyong, for the first time, speaks without a filter.

“I meant you. You’re stunning.”

Taeyong revels in the way Ten’s cheeks are tinged with an innocent pink.

 

For once, Taeyong feels sure about what he wants.

 

_Hatred that will not go away and dreams that torture me_

_It wraps around me, hate is on me_

_I’m walking on top of a deep darkness_

_Look at what’s real that’s hidden over there_

 

All Taeyong feels is the biting cold of the December winds lingering on his face as he sits crouched in front of Ten’s apartment door. Ten had left for Thailand about a week ago for winter break, but Taeyong didn’t know where else to go as he felt his mind recess back into the dark depths which he refused to face. He feels lightheaded and dizzy, and upon raising fingers to his face he realizes tears have frozen onto his cheeks. The dull lighting of the apartment complex hallway, along with the harsh, unforgiving weather, matched the downcast within.

Taeyong desperately wishes Ten was here, to comfort him with his kind words and a gentle embrace, but at the same time, Taeyong is relieved, he wouldn’t want Ten to see him like this.

His family is holding a dinner party right now at the house; his parents are probably looking for him, but Taeyong couldn’t handle the attention. They praised him for doing well in school and winning competitions on the dance team (which he joined alongside Ten after enough coaxing), but for some reason, or more likely, for no reason at all, Taeyong felt like he wasn’t good enough.

He knows it’s stupid, people aren’t afraid to call him stupid for feeling like that either. He’s attractive, smart, and talented; he has it all, doesn’t he? Then why doesn’t he really see the point of living? He loves his family, he does, although Taeyong is less willing to admit he’s grown to love the cute Thai boy with the perfect tanned skin and gorgeous facial features. Yet why does he feel so...alone? Taeyong closes his eyes, letting the familiar, incomprehensible sorrow suffocate him.

He thinks of Ten, who always has a smile on his face, even when he’s sad, even when he’s so clearly broken. Ten, who is always optimistic no matter the circumstances, a perfect dose of naivety and innocence. Taeyong wishes he could be strong enough to smile like that. He hits his head slightly against the door in frustration, and all of a sudden he’s falling backwards.

 

“Taeyong???” Ten gasps in surprise, looking down with wide and concerned eyes, at Taeyong who was currently laying on the ground.

 

Not making an effort to get up, Taeyong simply looks up dazedly, and says more to himself than anyone, “Ten…?”

 

Great. Now he’s hallucinating.

 

“Taeyong! Shit, are you okay??? What are you doing here?” Crouching down and grabbing onto Taeyong’s arms to help pull him up, Ten bites his lip worriedly. Taeyong sits up and fires back with a question of his own, “I thought you were in Thailand…?”

Averting his eyes and looking down at his hands, Ten breathes out “I lied.”

Upon seeing Taeyong’s confused expression, Ten grabbed his hand and helped Taeyong to his feet, leading him inside. Ten gestured to the couch, and Taeyong wasted no time getting comfortable; it wasn’t his first time here. To Taeyong’s surprise, Ten sat in between Taeyong’s legs, so that his back was pressed against Taeyong’s chest. Sensing the younger needed some comfort, Taeyong wrapped his arms around Ten’s slim waist. Ten sighed contentedly and turned his face slightly; his breath fanning across Taeyong’s neck. 

“I didn’t want you to pity me, so I lied.”

 “Would you like to elaborate?”

"I'm gay."

Taeyong raises his eyebrows at the sudden confession.

Ten sighs and continues, “My family is very wealthy, and everything is about image when it comes to dealing with that amount of money. My father shunned me, but my mother decided she’d secretly provide for me. And now I live here, with a maid; you’ve met her a few times, yeah? She actually did go back to Thailand to see her family. But I can't exactly do the same.” Taeyong can feel Ten shaking slightly, and he notices Ten trying to discreetly wipe his tears.

Taeyong essentially lifts Ten so that he can look at him properly, and Ten laughs, despite the tears flowing, because now he's basically sitting sideways on Taeyong’s lap. Taeyong reached out and brushed his fingers against Ten’s cheeks, wanting to wipe away his sadness while admiring his delicate features.

Ten sniffled, and ducked his head shyly, “Okay, your turn. Why were you randomly sitting outside my door?” 

“Do you ever feel sad for no reason?” Taeyong whispered, unsure if Ten even heard him, still wiping away the remnants of Ten’s tears. He realizes it’s a stupid question, since Ten does have a reason to be sad, while Taeyong doesn’t.

“No, there’s usually a reason behind it,” Ten laughs bitterly.

“Sometimes, I feel overwhelmed with… sadness? Or hopelessness? I don’t really know… It’s not exactly coming from anywhere… Sometimes I feel worthless,” Taeyong rambles, unable to look Ten in the eye “I’m not usually like that; it comes in bouts, you know? Sorry, I’m pathetic.”

Ten's eyes widen disbelievingly, “How often?”

“Nowadays, I don’t feel that way as often, but today is just one of my unlucky days, I guess.”

Ten’s voice is barely a whisper, “How come you never told me?”

Taeyong looks away. “Like I said, it’s pathetic.”

Ten cups Taeyong’s face, “Look at me.” Reluctantly, Taeyong looks up to see Ten’s eyes ablaze with resolution, “You are not pathetic. Don’t freak out on me, okay?”

Ten hugs Taeyong’s side and rests his cheek on Taeyong’s shoulder before continuing, “From what I know, it sounds like depression. But that doesn’t change the way I think about you, and it definitely doesn’t make you pathetic. You know I’m here for you.” Clear hesitation reflects itself in Ten’s features, and Taeyong is surprised; he’s never seen Ten show hesitance in any shape or form, ever.

Taeyong responds gratefully, “Thanks, but I feel like you still have something to say…?”

Ten tilts his face so that he can look straight into Taeyong’s eyes, and the intensity makes Taeyong’s breath hitch.

“It doesn’t change the fact that I really, really like you. And I will do anything to help you through this, but you already know that.” Taeyong’s vision blurs with tears, but he wills them away, instead focusing on how fucking beautiful Ten is; it really does reflect who he happens to be on the inside.

Ten moves to straddle Taeyong, fully sitting in his lap to hold him in a tighter embrace, burying his face in the crook of Taeyong’s neck. Taeyong rests his chin atop the crown of Ten’s head and chokes out a laugh, voice hoarse from crying, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“We can talk more in the morning… Just… Stay the night. Please,” Ten pleads more than asks, lips brushing against Taeyong’s neck.

 

They lay side by side on Ten’s twin bed and fall asleep contentedly in each other’s arms, helping each other hold their broken pieces together.

 

Because they trusted each other enough to reveal how broken they truly are.

 

_Open Your Eyes quietly Open Your Eyes_

_Open Your Eyes now Open Your Eyes_

_In the irregularity that’s hard to understand_

_There’s a story that’s deeply hidden_

_Eyes are being opened through this song_

_Your dreams are being read_

_It’s being awakened from a deep sleep_

_My seventh sense_

_This night came to me_

_A different dream is getting closer_

 

Spring break has made its appearance, the birds chirping noisily and vibrant hues blooming outside of every window.

The clock reads 8:42 am on Taeyong’s nightstand, which unbeknownst to most people, now holds a bottle of antidepressants. Ten immediately encouraged Taeyong to see a doctor, and thank God he did, because apparently he has chemical depression. He had a hard time asking his parents to see one, but of course, they agreed and didn’t dismiss it as Taeyong being an overdramatic teenager. The dark parts of his mind would surface now and then as always, but now Taeyong feels more in control and can tell himself that those thoughts aren’t his own. Then there’s Ten, who's always willing to help Taeyong flow through the motions...

 

For once, Taeyong is grateful. He feels _blessed._

 

Turning on his side, now fully facing Ten sleeping beside him, Taeyong takes in all of Ten’s beauty. The dim early morning light cast a soft glow on Ten’s complexion; he seemed almost ethereal. Brushing the hair out of Ten’s face and tracing his fingers over Ten’s delicate features, Taeyong decided he really liked how Ten looked so much more peaceful without worry or concern etching lines into faces.

Taeyong wanted to Ten to know how much he adored him, how grateful he was, and Taeyong would worship Ten, by giving his body all the attention he wanted. While pressing kisses across Ten’s jawline, Ten’s eyes flutter open, moaning quietly when Taeyong sucks and nips on a spot right below his ear. Ten gently places a hand on Taeyong’s cheek to guide his lips towards his own, and the moment their lips meet, Ten lets out a shaky sigh; they’ve both waited for this for so long. Taeyong takes the opportunity to relish Ten’s mouth, savoring the feeling of Ten moaning desperately into the kiss as Taeyong slips his hands underneath Ten’s loose shirt, running rough palms over the smooth expanse of Ten’s abs, waistline, and chest.

His thumbs tease the perky areolas, brushing over them and occasionally drawing circles, making Ten gasp unabashedly. Taeyong smiles into the kiss; Ten has always been shameless, so ready to strip himself bare in front of Taeyong. Leaning over and brushing his lips against the shell of Ten’s ear, Taeyong whispers, “Why don’t you get naked for me baby, hm?”

Ten’s hands shake slightly as he grabs the hem of his shirt, never breaking eye contact with Taeyong as he lifts it up over his head. He bites his lip when sits back to remove his shorts and underwear, spreading his legs slightly, giving Taeyong a nice view of his ass and his leaking cock, resting against his stomach. Taeyong growled; the sound making Ten’s dick twitch eagerly. Grabbing Ten’s hips in a bruising grasp, Taeyong kissed his way from Ten’s chest, down across his abs, until he nipped at Ten’s hipbones. Taeyong reveled in the blossoms of purple appearing on the previous flawless umber. He smirked as he felt Ten quiver underneath Taeyong’s unrelenting mouth, whining slightly, secretly liking the pain of Taeyong’s grip.

Without warning, Taeyong swiped his tongue against Ten’s entrance, and Ten bucks his hips from the overwhelming sensation. All of a sudden Taeyong’s hands forcefully spread Ten’s asscheeks; tongue thrusting mercilessly as Ten cries out, “Hah- Taeyong! Nngh!” Taeyong’s tongue was hot and wet inside him, letting two fingers easily shove into Ten’s entrance. Taeyong immediately crooked his fingers to brush against his prostate, stroking that spot again and again, making Ten moan wantonly as he felt bolts of pleasure shooting up his spine and in his lower abdomen; tears pricking his eyes. Ten panted, bucking his hips against the rapid thrust of Taeyong’s fingers, begging in between pants “Taeyong, take me, _please._ ”  Taeyong smirked at Ten’s desperation, wasting no time in fulfilling his wants.

Wide-eyed, Ten watched as Taeyong freed his cock from the constraints of his jeans and underwear, moaning at the sight of it, the _size_ of it. Taeyong hovered over Ten, supporting himself on his forearms, rubbing his dickhead across his entrance.

Gasping for air as Taeyong’s thick cock slowly pushes in; the burn of the stretch along with the intensely pleasurable feeling of being so _full_ makes Ten want to cry, yet he manages to beg “Fuck me, Taeyong, _oh God_ ” Taeyong pulls out slowly, and thrusts back inside at different speeds and different angles every time, Ten’s jaw going slack as he cries out.

“Ah! Taeyong, more!”

Taeyong grabs the back of Ten’s knees to push the tops of Ten’s thighs flat against his chest, and Ten moans at how Taeyong’s nails dig into his skin painfully as he holds his legs open. Taeyong continues at a slow pace, shallowly thrusting, and Ten can’t help but to roll his hips, wanting more, always wanting more, wanting to please Taeyong. Drugged by the sensations, Ten pleads more than says against Taeyong’s neck, “ _Fuck me harder"_

Taeyong groans at Ten’s whimpers and holds Ten’s legs apart even wider, so that he was thrusting directly against Ten’s prostate. Ten screams as his prostate was abused, moaning lewdly as Taeyong increased the pace and force of his thrusts.

“Taeyong, yes! Fuck-hahh”

Ten clung to Taeyong’s neck as he was fucked senseless, not noticing the tears beginning to flow out of his eyes. Taeyong felt so good inside of him, too good, and the Ten’s moans began to rise in pitch and volume as heat began to pool in his stomach, signaling his climax. Ten was essentially screaming at this point, every thrust bringing him closer to the edge, and Ten manages to choke out a warning in between pants, “Taeyong, I’m c-close”

Taeyong leans down to swallow Ten’s shameless moans and gasps in an open-mouthed kiss, mumbling against Ten’s lips, “Then cum for me.”

Ten cries out, back arching violently, lost in pleasure as he chants Taeyong’s name like a prayer until he finally cums, untouched, the heat spreading all across his body from the pit of his abdomen, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Ten’s constant clenching has Taeyong follow soon after with a grunt, and they laugh exhaustedly when Taeyong collapses, still thrusting shallowly.

Maybe it’s way Ten easily has Taeyong wrapped around his pinky finger, but Taeyong like to think he’s irrevocably better off just like that, giving Ten what he wants, giving back the happiness Ten had revived within him.

 

_Now I understand, as if everything is mine_

_Open Your Eyes_

_Look at what’s real, Open Your Eyes_

_Open Your Eyes_

_Open Your Eyes (I’m not alone)_

  
With Ten, Taeyong can’t ever feel alone, not anymore.


End file.
